


Lateral

by butterflymind



Category: Stargate: SG-1
Genre: Drama, F/M, Miscarriage, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-15
Updated: 2010-07-15
Packaged: 2017-10-10 14:01:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflymind/pseuds/butterflymind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lateral: adjective relating to the sides of something, or moving in a sideways direction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lateral

_The silence was oppressive. Dark, cold and suffocating it billowed around the room, waiting for a chance to crush them both. He was saying something, she couldn't hear him. It was like a bad movie, his mouth moved but she could hear no sounds, the pictures fuzzed around the edges, blurring with the darkness until suddenly it shifted, snapped into focus. He was shouting at her, she'd expected that._

_"For God's sake Sam!" She cowed, it seemed appropriate. "What do you want from me?" To go away, to stop yelling, to leave, to have never been here in the first place. _

_"Nothing." Her voice was quiet to her, surely he could not have heard it. _

_"Sam!" It was danger, it was a command, she hated that. It was the worst thing, the order, and the demands. She hated his demands, hated them with a fury and a passion. "Sam." Hated that more, insidious and soft, crawls and your skin, no I won't keep you warm this time. _

_"No!" That was tough, that was decisive, that was what she should have done. Create some space, even if you have to rip it away. _

_"Look Sam," he turns away, he can't face you not if he's gonna crawl back to you, he can't be sorry face to face. _

"Not this time Jonas." That's it. The plate sailed towards her, spinning far too slowly and she moved, because that's what she should do. He was going and the plate was spinning, until it crashed into a wall, crashed and splintered and fell to the ground. And clattered.

The pen dropped suddenly from her fingers, clattering and spinning as it hit the flat surface of her desk. Sam blinked at it a few times, trying to remember why it had fallen and if she had ever been holding it at all. He eyes felt tired, forced open and blinking owlishly she finally spied the clock on her wall. No wonder, she had never meant to stay this late. Quickly she gathered the fallen pen and her papers, sticking it in her top pocket, trying desperately to remember where she'd put her keys. Finally she spied them on top of another bundle of loose paper; she had no idea what those ones even were, she had to clean one of these days. Slipping her Jacket over her shoulders she left the office, though at the last moment she pulled the pen out of her pocket and dumped it back on the desk. It was illogical, but it felt right. She waved goodbye to some of the night crew as she boarded the elevator. Her eyes still felt tired and she wondered if she'd be ok driving home. For a second she closed them, trying to remember what she had been thinking before the pen fell, wondering why that alone seemed so significant. She leaned back in the elevator, jolting abruptly when it reached the surface. Grimacing she stepped out of it, heading for the darkness outside.

"Are you alright Major?" The airman on the desk looked at her with bemused concern and Sam realized she must look a whole lot worse than she felt.

"Fine." She offered him her look of most competence and did her best not to stagger towards the entrance.

"Will you be ok to drive?" He was only registering concern but the blip on Sam's radar was becoming increasingly annoying.

"Yes airman, I will be fine." She moved slightly quicker out into the car park, searching for hers. Climbing inside, she felt her shoulders relax, her eyes open a little wider. "See, fine." She muttered softly to herself, as the phone in her pocket chirruped, she pulled it out and listened to the voicemail.

"Hey Sam, just wondering where you'd got to, but I guess you're still at work. I figured Chinese for dinner, call when you get out if you want anything else and I'll get it. Love ya." She smiled, when had those words become so easy to say? When had they become so easy to hear? Typical for him to order takeout, though she was quietly grateful he didn't attempt cooking. His pots and pans had had the unnatural shine that only comes with complete disuse and she had a personal theory that he had a blind spot to anything in the fridge that did not include the words 'microwave from pack.' On the other hand, he knew all the best take out joints in town. She dropped the phone back in her pocket and started the engine, finding the rhythm of driving was waking her up, obviously it was better than whatever else had been going on in her head.

The roads were quiet, though Sam wasn't overly surprised 'at this time of night it's only the mad, the drunk and people who can't tell the time.' She thought, then quickly counted down the options on her fingers. 'Have to re think that one,' she amended. Of course where driving is easy parking is logically hell and after five minutes of unsuccessful hunting, she finally slipped it into a gap that was inconvenient and possibly technically illegal. 'To hell with it' she thought as she jogged to the door, wriggling the key in the lock for some time before she remembered it turned the other way. 'Finally.' She surveyed the apartment, it was messy and softly lit and unmistakably home, even when everything else around her seemed to be conspiring against her reaching it. She wandered into the kitchen and found a couple of cartons of Chinese food; he obviously hadn't got as far as the fridge. The rest of the table was covered in papers, scrawled notes in his handwriting and quite a few in other people's. Gently she rescued one of Jack's reports that had slipped into the sweet and sour sauce and prayed for his sake that it was a photocopy. She borrowed his fork and took a couple of bites out of the cold noodles, far too tired to bother with even the exertions of a microwave. She picked them up and wandered into the living room with them, finally finding him sprawled on the couch. More paper adorned the coffee table and a fair amount was on him, though he didn't seem to have noticed. Softly she gathered it and put in some semblance of a pile on the coffee table. She crawled to his head and removed his glasses. The soft touch made him sleepily open his eyes and he blinked, trying to remove either the sleep, or the lack of focus.

"You're home." He said quietly, reaching out a hand to stroke down the side of her face and she leaned into the touch, feeling the warmth suffuse through her.

"Well observed." She leaned in and kissed the bridge of his nose, he retaliated by wrapping his arms around her, kissing her gently and forcing her to climb onto the sofa with him.

"Hello." He said once he had got her settled.

"Hello." She responded, turning slightly so she could face him. "I see you managed the magic of the take out at least." He grinned.

"It was probably safer for us both."

"Mmmhmmm" she agreed, "though you did manage to give one of Jack's reports a good dunking."

"Ah." He thought for a moment. "Maybe I could tell him I was reading and cooking?"

"It needs to at least be plausible Daniel."

"Ok, I bled on it."

"Much more likely." She grinned then snuggled further into his chest, needing the contact for some reason.

"Where have you been anyway?" Daniel asked, fixing her with a look. "What happened to 'one more hour of this and then I'm done?'"

"Minor miscalculation." She smiled, unable to rationalize to him what had felt like a lost half-hour.

"And to think your calculations keep us safe." Gently he began to kiss a path from her ear to her collarbone. "Remind me to bring a calculator next trip." She slapped his thigh, but he was too successfully diverting her attention for it to be any use.

"Mmm Daniel" He looked up at her and grinned wolfishly.

"Yes?" Every thought she'd had of moving sprung clean out of her head. Reaching up she pulled the rug over them both.

"Never mind" she breathed.

When she'd gone to sleep, the light had been on. Then again, she hadn't been alone then either. And it hadn't been so cold. This place was strangely cold. She pulled the rug tighter around herself, wishing she had some clothes. The darkness and the moonlight cast and eerie shadow on everything, hiding objects in the shadows, translating others into weird and wonderful shapes. There he was, sitting in the corner with his head in his hands. She watched him cry with a lack of emotion, a lack of anything. The body and the face were so familiar, but she could not place them. The whole place was familiar, but the memory like the image fuzzed and blurred round the edges, escaping like quicksilver every time she tried to reach out and capture it. Again there was a snap a pull into the focus. She could hear him now, sighing and sobbing, unable to look at her. He took a great hitching breath, as if trying to find a centre. Had she made him cry? She had a feeling it was her, nothing else made sense. She watched him from her position as he stood, walking over to her, his body still shuddering from the occasional tear. He knelt next to her with grief written all over his face. Gently he reached out to cup her cheek with his hand, but his hands were so cold. She shivered but resisted the urge to pull away, it didn't seem right somehow. He smiled at her, thin and watery and gently he leaned over to her, kissing the soft skin around her ear, whispering in a shuddering sigh

"_Sam? Sam…"_

"Sam?" She moaned and rolled slightly, finding a wall of damp warmth.

"Daniel?" She asked, gradually opening her eyes. His breath tickled the side of her head.

"You ok?" He asked, turning her head slightly so she looked at him. "Couldn't find you in there for a minute."

She mustered a smile and looked at him "I'm ok, just very sleepy."

"I can tell." He traced a line down her body, under the blanket. "Fun as this was" he smiled "maybe we should move to somewhere a bit softer, that won't groan so much." She grinned and nodded, revelling for a second in the warmth and the contact of flesh on flesh. "Uhh Sam?" She looked at him quizzically. "You're on top of me and although I'm by no means complaining, it's gonna make getting up kinda hard." She chuckled and finally managed to lever herself off him, offering a hand to help him up. It took for a minute for them to settle into the softness of the sheets. Though Daniel finally managed to get himself both securely wrapped around her and the lions share of the quilt. She growled softly, stealing a bit back, reminding herself again that they needed a bigger one. She looked up to see his eyes fixed on her blue still luminescent even in the relative darkness of the room.

"Love you." She muttered softly. He kissed the top of her head.

"Love you too." He responded then slowly his breathing settled as he drifted into sleep. Sam lay there surrounded by his warmth. She felt so safe here, the protection for some reason suddenly vitally important to her. Things just out of reach in her mind lay temptingly close, but she refused to chase them. She felt so safe here. She did not sleep the rest of the night.

The car jolted slightly forward on its suspension as Daniel pulled into the parking space. Sam arched slightly against the seat belt, but whether she was even conscious of the fact was another question. She stared unseeing out of the window. Automatically her hand reached for the lock and she slid out of the car door. Suddenly she jerked sharply and was forced back into her seat.

"Uhh Sam?" Daniel asked, appearing by her door. "Most of us unbuckle seat belts first." She gave him a withering look and slid from the car, saving face from the other personnel if nothing else. It was a rare luxury they allowed themselves, driving in together. Most of the time they avoided difficult questions with separate cars but this morning, Daniel had taken one look at her and informed her he was driving. Usually the route was taken up with tossing ideas, Stargate and otherwise back and forth, mental play and mental foreplay entwining until Sam couldn't remember where her mind ended and his begun. But today, she shook her head as they passed through the mountain's entrance, trying to clear the fog. She didn't know where her active mind had gone, but she really wished it had left a note. As they descended Daniel lightly squeezed her shoulder. It could be interpreted as a friendly gesture, but Sam recognised his unspoken 'you alright?' She offered him her best attempt at a smile, trying to work out why, under the façade, she was shivering.

"Morning campers!" She nearly turned and pressed the up button on the lift right there. But Jack had a nice smile, when he wasn't being snipey or sarcastic. Vaguely she wondered how she knew that, when was he not being snipey or sarcastic?

"Hello Sir" she offered him the same distant smile she'd been using as a defence mechanism all morning, though his reaction was typically far less subtle than Daniel's, or even the kid's in the coffee shop. Bouncing in front of her he waved a hand in front of her eyes. He was certainly full of energy today and the tune of 'the wonderful thing about Tiggers' starting going round Sam's head, adding another layer to already annoying buzz.

"Well she's not playing with the rest of the team." He said, "what have you been doing to her Daniel?"

"Doing to? Ah… doing to Sam? Doing what to Sam? What would I? Oh." That cut through the fog and Sam cringed inwardly. Daniel Jackson, friend, confidante, lover, genius and the worst liar since Eve had insisted it was cherry pie. She swore it was pure luck alone that Jack hadn't figured it out yet, but then again as Daniel frequently pointed out 'there's none so blind...'

"I'll take that stony silence as a no then."

"Huh?" Sam looked up sharply, having suddenly the horrible feeling that Jack had been talking to her.

"I asked you what you're doing here Major, we're on stand down. You should be at home." He narrowed his eyes at her slightly. "Actually you should just be asleep."

"I could ask the same of you three sir." She looked round the three of them. Ok, she admitted to herself, Teal'c did have a legitimate excuse. And she knew why Daniel was here, even if she had told him he should take a day off. That just left the oh so smug Colonel then.

"Well I have reports bearing down on me." It was said in a tone that implied he'd rather have league of Death Gliders bearing down on him. "Daniel, well I'm sure Daniel has something truly and deeply exciting to be doing with his day off." Jack's eyebrow quirked a little in Daniel's direction. To his credit Daniel swam away from the bait as fast as was possible. "And Teal'c well, y'know." He didn't quite say alien, but it hovered unspoken none the less.

"And I have a world and one things to do with this day." Sam responded as tartly as she could. "Literally."

"Whatever you say Major." To say he had been only teasing would be an anathema to Jack O'Neill, but the apology was in his eyes and Sam gave him a small smile of acceptance.

"C'mon Danny-boy." Shifting his attention, Jack wrapped his arm round the younger man's shoulders. "Let me introduce you to a wonderful world called 'what they serve in the mess hall in daylight.'" As he was turned away, Daniel's eyes caught Sam's with a thousand worries and questions. She dropped her gaze, unable to deal with them right now. By the time she looked up, Jack had dragged Daniel round the corner. Teal'c stood impassively by her side, looking down slightly, his eyebrow quirked.

"Are you alright Major Carter?" She smiled a little, what Teal'cs voice lacked in inflection was made up for by a single eyebrow.

"I'm fine Teal'c" She gave him her best reassuring smile. He didn't believe her and she knew it, he was a well of sensitivity and he read their emotions like a book.

"Very well." His eyebrow quirked again and Sam recognized something she could only quantify as 'whoever they are I'll bash 'em.' Though actually imagining Teal'c saying the words almost made her giggle. As he retreated down the corridor she made her way into her own lab, grateful for the familiarity.

She dumped her bag down by her chair and sat. Her computer's screen was black, but she knew a single touch of a key would bring back everything she had so gratefully got away from last night. Sighing she reached for the keyboard, but her hand paused, hovered and picked up the pen that had rolled under it. She squinted at it for a second, trying to capture whatever it was that tickled the edge of her mind. What was it doing here? She could have sworn she'd taken it home last night. But then again, the whole night seemed like a dream now. She dropped the pen in her top pocket and turned her attention to the burning report on the screen. Surely it was way too bright? She picked up the half filled mug of coffee and tried to type, but the words just wouldn't come. 'Where's that famous concentration now miss Carter?' Her inner voice taunted, strangely enough taking the persona of her most hated professor 'got you through a PhD, where is it now?' She resisted the urge to say shut up out loud and stubbornly turned her eyes to the screen. Try to stop the words blurring together, she closed them for the briefest second, trying to find what had suddenly become such elusive focus.

_Sam opened her eyes. She felt nauseous and for a second her surroundings swam around her. What the..? She was balancing precariously, she knew that. She felt the slip of surface beneath her jolt suddenly and she rocked dangerously close to the edge, struggling she pulled her weight back but it only sent her careening over to the other side. She panicked and suddenly she sat right again, still barely balanced on what she could see now was a thin piece of metal that seemed to stretch outwards into the darkness. It reminded her of the pathway in the pyramid where they'd found the crystal skull, where Daniel's Grandfather now lived. Unsure of what to do she sat still, afraid to look down. She'd flown F-16's in the Gulf, but there she'd understood the physics. The ledge jolted again and she'd tried to regain her balance, succeeding only in sending herself further out. Finally she stopped struggling and she righted back onto the surface. _

"That's it." The voice spoke from her right and Sam looked over. A child stared back at her, sitting on a shorter, fatter ledge. A child with eyes far too wise. Like the Nox, Sam realized suddenly, children who never really were. "Don't fight the time." The girl continued and Sam looked down involuntarily, aware suddenly of what she would see. The clock face was impossibly white, the numbers looking more like holes in it's polished, glaring surface. Sam shivered, it was suddenly a very long way down. Something caught the corner of her eye. She watched in amazement as an old woman moved past below her. The ledge she sat on was the thinnest and the fastest and she balanced crazily, rocking continuously from side to side.

"_Is she…?" Sam asked worriedly, turning back to the child._

"_She's fine." The girl responded, apparently without care. "She won't fall off, yet." 'Yet?' Sam's mind questioned, but the child had looked away from her, staring behind her head towards what she supposed must be the centre. Slowly she turned; something was resting there, like an altar. She'd seen far too many of them for her liking but still she couldn't quite identify it. She stood, walking the hand as if it were a tightrope. There was a statue, as she neared it the carving fuzzed slowly into focus. A head, a face, his face. She stopped suddenly then moved cautiously further forward, though whether that was her choice or not she could not tell. Cautiously she touched the smooth marble. It was him alright, the eyes without pupils or colour stared at her blankly, but the head was curiously misshapen. She leaned over it, looking to see what had been carved on the other side. Him again? The second face stared at her as blankly as the first and she knew suddenly that he could see all around, everything here, everything she did. The hand beneath her jolted again and she growled, suddenly, inexplicably angry. She reached below the altar, finding the lever that operated the clock hands. The rust held it in place, but she pushed up against it, using her weight, squeezing the handle…._

The cup shattered suddenly in her hand. Thankfully cold coffee spurted out, drenching her palm and wrist. Sam reflexively dropped it, hissing at the sudden pain. Cautiously she opened her hand, finding tiny bits of the porcelain imbedded in her hand. Blood dripped over the edge of her fingers onto the paper. She pushed back violently from the desk, supporting one hand with the other. Quickly she wrapped tissue around it, trying to stem the blood flow and she jogged down the corridor towards the infirmary. Half her mind focussed on the intense pain; the rest tried desperately to formulate a plausible excuse.

"You were just trying to find out?" The light incredulity coloured Janet's tone as she wrapped another layer of dressing round Sam's hand. The painkillers had been a welcome relief, the stitches and interrogation had not.

"I didn't realize it would shatter." Sam responded defensively, wondering why she couldn't have come up with anything better.

"I just…" Janet paused, unable to find the words. "Now if it had been Teal'c…"

"He'd probably have won rather than the cup?" Sam asked, her tone was wry, but that was little more than an automatic reaction.

"Yeah." Janet grinned for a second then looked up at her friend. "You alright Sam?"

'If one more person…' Sam only growled inwardly, not having the energy for any form of outburst. "Yeah I'm fine." She said, then amended "may be just a little tired."

"Well you'll have plenty of time to rest." Janet said curtly, the Dr. mode stepping in and snapping her spine straight, "I'm getting an airman to drive you home, there's no way you're staying here with an injury like that. " Sam opened her mouth to protest then to her own surprise, closed it again. The words wouldn't come and neither would the energy behind them. Janet grinned obviously feeling she'd won the unspoken argument as she taped the dressing firmly to Sam's wrist.

"Go on" she shooed, as Sam hopped off the bed. "Get some sleep, Doctor's orders." As Sam left the room, she couldn't even offer a faint smile.

Why did all her clothes smell of him? Sam felt the soft material, feeling his scent, his presence on it. He's still here, even when he isn't. She slipped the sweatshirt over her head, it as still so cold in here, so very, very cold. Why did all her clothes smell of him? He touched her too much, she knew that, but why did they taunt her with permanent reminders too? He was in the corner she could tell, he was watching her, and she didn't want him to. But what could she do when he was there, even when he wasn't?

Sam blinked as she folded the shirt into the case. It had suddenly become so clear, so snapped into focus it made her eyes hurt. She slung the bag over her shoulder, taking only what she could carry, what she needed. She didn't need a reason to do this, because she knew she had to. Her hand brushed something on the bedside table and she picked them up, touching them reverently as she held them up to the light. Without thinking she slid it into the pocket of her bag, she needed them some quiet part of her mind yelled, though whatever else it said was far too muffled by the fog. Turning she pulled herself away, heading for the open doorway. She'd left it open to remind her. She didn't know where she was going, but for some reason she needed to be there. Her eyes pricked with dry tears, whatever wanted to hold her here was fighting strong, but everything was so quiet and everything else was so loud. She paused by the doorframe. Suddenly pulling the pen out of her top pocket. She scrawled directly onto the wall's surface. 'To Daniel' the writing was crisp, formal. Underneath she wrote much more messily. 'I'm so sorry.'

"No way Jack, no, no, no, I am not, no. No way and just to clarify, no!"

"Aww c'mon Danny…"

"I have far too much work to do Jack." Daniel strode purposefully down the corridor and bobbing behind his left shoulder; Jack just as purposefully kept up.

"I dare you."

"We're not at school Jack."

"Wanna bet?" Daniel sighed theatrically and turned in the opposite direction, only to be turned again.

"Just because you promised to bring a friend."

"And I chose you, my buddy, my pal…"

"Can it. Take Teal'c"

"I can't take Teal'c, he's not very good with Hockey."

"I thought he enjoyed it?"

"Didn't say he didn't enjoy it, just that he's not very good with it."

"What are you talking about?"

"He stands when they score"

"So?"

"When anybody scores."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Not good in such a nice, gentle team sport."

"Sarcasm Jack? How novel. Take Feretti then."

"He's busy."

"I'm not first choice buddy/pal then?"

"Only cause I knew what you'd say."

"And I'm saying it, no!"

"But I promised!"

"That's my problem."

"What?"

"Hockey, fine. Hockey and a set up? No way."

"I don't like the way you keep saying that."

"It's my natural negative side Jack." Jack sighed and threw his hands up in the air.

"Anyone would think you didn't want to be set up." 'Ah got ya' he thought as Daniel flinched. Classic hit a nerve reaction from the space monkey. Jack was always the kid who had to see how far he could climb up the tree before he hit trouble, it's amazing how some things stay with you all your life.

"So that's it. How long have you been hiding it?"

"Hiding what Jack?" Daniel was cool calm and collected, not a blush, not a stutter. 'He's definitely lying'. Jack thought.

"Come on Danny, whattya hiding?" it was phrased as a joke, it was anything but. Jack watched Daniel's face carefully, he was playing a dangerous game and he knew it, with whoever this person was, if there was one. Jack was still not totally convinced of that; complex creatures like Daniel Jackson could be obtuse for any number of reasons, not all of them making sense to most ordinary humans. He noticed the slight flexing in the muscles of his jaw, the way his eyebrows had dipped just below the rims of his glasses, he was controlling something, controlling, was that anger? Daniel was one of the most peaceful individuals Jack knew, not so much 'shoot now, ask questions later' as 'get an entire portfolio of your background culture and traditions before liasing with you to see if it's alright to give you a flesh wound.' However he'd seen Daniel shoot the enemy, whatever moral objections he may have. Daniel Jackson had a protective instinct like a mother tiger.

"Nothing Jack." Still joking, still innocent denial, with a softly clipped tone that spoke volumes.

"Sure Danny-boy, whatever you say." Daniel sighed in exasperation and gave Jack a 'whatever' look before turning back down the corridor. Jack watched him go, he'd tripped a fuse and he knew it. Suddenly he was guilty, as always just a second to late. Turning he yelled to the retreating back. "Hey Daniel." The use of his full name caught his attention and he turned, "hey, y'know, if there is something, or you want to talk, or even if there isn't and you just want to, y'know, or if you have a problem…" He stopped, finally surrendering his flailing battle for the right words. Daniel rewarded him with the hint of a genuine smile.

"Ok Jack." He turned again and Jack stood in the middle of the corridor, watching him walk away.

She didn't know where she was, but she knew she knew it. Her stitched hand was sore from resting on the steering wheel. 'No driving' Janet had said, well she apologized for breaking one order. Besides the pain itself was a relief. It distracted her slightly from the constant throb that seemed to have settled itself around her temples, like she had gained an extra heart in her head, but the space it had to beat in was far too small. Her good hand tightened around the wheel as she swerved to overtake another lorry. The driver glared at her from her rear-view mirror and she had a sudden urge to get out and tell him she had flown planes in the Gulf. No one had complained about her driving then. As she had gone further, her progress had slowed, though she was not aware of it. All she knew was the feeling of movement, of the friction of the tires on the smooth surface, of the purr of the engine, of the feeling of the power she controlled.

_Of the power he controlled. He was driving; hard intense eyes fixed on the road in front of them. She felt the image snap into focus and suddenly she was aware of the pain. Her stomach hurt, deep-seated fear and adrenaline mixed with a pain so unquantifiable it was disturbing. The engine was too loud, it roared as he forced it, driving it beyond its natural limits. She knew how it felt. They swerved violently as he accelerated past a truck, narrowly missing the front. The driver glared at him and he swore back. He was so angry, he was always angry when he wasn't dripping with sickly sweet self-satisfaction. The rage echoed and she held the door, finding the catch, useless as the gesture was. It was so cramped, rage billowed out, almost tangible in the air, and the space was so small…_

She had to swerve again to miss the car that she was sure hadn't been that close when she had last looked. Her hands were shaking, she needed to stop. Swinging into the motel carpark she automatically locked the doors and pocketed the keys. Then she turned to her side, and he wasn't there. She was expecting the gentle presence of him, as automatic as locking the car doors. Sighing, she walked across the forecourt, towards the unfriendly glare of neon. She didn't know where she was but he knew, she knew it.

Janet had caught him in the corridor. Why she'd come to him he didn't know, but he had an inkling. Somehow he got the subtle feeling Janet knew; then again everybody got that about any kind of secret when they were around Janet. Usually it was because they were right.

"Daniel." 'Not Dr Jackson' that immediately put him on his guard, this wasn't formal then. "I've sent Sam home, she had an accident." He chided himself for turning a little more sharply than he should have, for his eyes widening a little too much, Sam wouldn't be pleased, he still remembered it. 'I must be the first woman in history who's had to teach their lover how to lie.' But Janet didn't seem to notice, or if she did, she knew anyway.

"What kind of accident." 'Level, professional, good Dr Jackson, let's try not to make two total mess ups in one day.'

"She umm, broke a cup." Daniel raised his eyebrows and Janet smiled slightly. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, try to get it out of her."

"Have you told Jack yet?" 'God, you might actually survive this.'

"I'm leaving that little pleasure or later, since she's gonna be out of action for a few days."

"Ah, That'll go down well with Jack."

"Precisely. Besides I thought you'd want to know first."

"Why?" 'A little quick off the mark there, Daniel, but she might have missed it, y'know like some people didn't notice Hannibal crossing the Alps.'

"Just thought you'd want to know before you went." 'Maybe she did miss… no don't be stupid Daniel, this is Janet.' She smiled at him as she walked away and Daniel was slightly concerned. He knew that smile, he liked that smile but he didn't trust it. It was her patented 'I'm not your Doctor I'm your friend.' But its second meaning was 'I'm not your Doctor I'm your friend and this large needle isn't going to hurt a bit.' Never trust anyone who could dissect you, in more than one way.

Climbing into the lift he managed to move sedately from the mountain to the carpark to the car and out of the base. It was only when he left the mountain that his worry began to visibly show. Sam would normally have come to tell him, he knew that. If she didn't? Well then she was obviously in pain whatever; she rarely acquiesced to being taken anywhere if there was work to be done. He'd never dated anyone before who had to have their paperwork physically removed. At the restaurant.

He slipped the key in the lock and looked around, the first thing he saw was that the place was tidy. It still seemed to be such an incongruity to even associate the words apartment and order but this was just unnatural. It looked artificial, unlived in. Growing slightly nervous he yelled for her.

"Sam?" His voice echoed off the empty walls, she wouldn't be at his place, they lived here, they had done for at least a month and slowly his life had moved in with hers and become theirs. Where was she? He walked from room to room, the knot in his stomach growing tighter by the second. He knew why the place seemed so empty. Some of her stuff was gone; the rest was neatly put away as if she had never been here. He touched the place on her bedside table where her photos should have been. Then noticed what else was gone. His glasses case lay abandoned on the bed, incongruously out of place in the spotless room. His spares had gone and the case lay dejected and empty.

Heading out he walked towards the front door, intending to check, to look for her everywhere. Then he saw it, scrawled in pencil on the paintwork. He stopped. For a second the entire world seemed to freeze around him, as blank as his mind at that moment. He was suddenly numb, but his hand reached for the phone and dialled, with or without his permission.

"Yeah?" The voice on the other end seemed so out of place in this untouched room, it was of the real world.

"Jack." Daniel let out a breath trying to find the right words. "I have a problem."

He was hovering above her. The dog tags he never removed hung from his neck, metal harsh against her skin. His hands were so cold, they crawled across her body like snowspiders and involuntarily, she shivered. She felt him pause and his eyes flicked from some obscure point in the distance to her face. His face was clouded, full of primal concern, or primal fear, or primal rage. He grew larger in her eyes and she almost squirmed away, but he was holding her, fixed by his hands on her hips and his eyes on her face. Pain wrenched through her gut, removed pain, removed from her and from him, yet intimately connected to them both. He almost growled and before she could register their appearance, his hands were tightening around her neck. They were so cold, the kind of cold that numbed the pain and the sensation. Almost lazily her eyes slid away from her casual strangulation and travelled downwards. Blood, seeping across the material with a pain so much more real than hers. There was so much blood and staring at it she felt her throat constrict beyond the reach of his icy hands, it was all so red….

And white. Sam stared blankly at the clean bedsheets, white as when she had collapsed into them, scant few hours before, which was to say not very. But the dingy yellow was very different to the violent red of her dream. 'Only one level of the spectrum' her ever-pedantic mind chirruped. "Shut up." She was alone in the room; she could talk to herself with impunity. Gingerly she untangled the sheet where it had become wound around her neck. It was not tight enough to be uncomfortable, but still she felt around her throat, carefully checking for bruises. She felt numb, but still she dressed as fast as she could, gathering her bags and dumping them in the car, whisking her keys into the hands of the clerk as she went.

"Have a nice day…" the swing door clattered closed with a rush of cold air. "Ma'am" he finished quietly, turning to hang the key back on the board. For a second he looked at it, the he wiped the edge of it with his thumb, removing the thin red stain.

As Sam drove out of the parking lot, she finally spotted the blood drop that was slowly making its way down her finger. Taking her hand from the wheel, she sucked it away, but stopped as soon as the coppery taste hit her tongue. She shook again, unable to control the impulse and slammed her hand back down on the wheel. The blood still dripped from the paper cut, she tried her best to ignore it.

He hadn't spoken for five minutes. It was the longest Daniel had known Jack to go voluntarily without speech, unless silence was imposed by the conditions. Jack was one of life's natural communicators, so his silence frightened Daniel, if he wasn't terrified enough already. Right now he sat on the sofa, elbows on his knees, his head hanging down. Sighing, he took a deep breath and looked up.

"How could you, I mean how? No, wait I don't mean how, I don't even want to know how. I mean why and when and... and... how?" Daniel ran his hands through his hair. In his perfect world he had hours to explain this to Jack. In his perfect world Jack would be accepting and moving on. In his perfect world, Sam wouldn't be missing and he wouldn't be here, jumping with the energy to find her and having nowhere to start.

"It just happened Jack, I can't explain why." Jack looked at him incredulously, Daniel wasn't sure what he found unbelievable. That he didn't know why it had happened, or that it had happened at all.

"Why didn't you tell me?" The question was soft. 'Veiled' Daniel thought. How did he answer that?

"We didn't want to tell anyone Jack, until we knew whether we were going anywhere, whether we could even make this work."

"That's not good enough!" The dam broke and Jack bounded from the sofa, his voice echoing around the room. "You told me it had been nearly five months Daniel! What were you waiting for, a blessing from the Tok'ra? Be honest with me at least, you knew it was wrong, you knew what it could do to us!"

"It isn't wrong Jack." Daniel's voice was calm only by a supreme act of will. He remained seated, but Jack strode over, his form towering above the chair.

"It's against every damned regulation in the manual!" Jack couldn't say it wasn't right, but he could say everything around it. "You don't have relationships with team mates, military or not. You don't break up a team, my team that way. You don't lie to me when your looking right at me and you don't drive Sam so far she has to get up and disappear!"

"You think this is my fault?" Daniel's voice shook, but remained calm. Half-incredulous, half-believing.

"She's disappeared Daniel. No mysterious kidnappers, no alien influences this time. She's just upped and disappeared, tell me what else could be the cause of her leaving? Who else could have upset her that much except you? This is why this relationship is a bad idea." A chill ran down Daniel's spine, fear that Jack could be right, fear that Jack could be wrong, and anger that he even dared suggest the possibility.

"Is that what this is about?" Daniel vaulted from the chair to stand on equal terms with Jack. He was as close as he could be, staring into Jack's eyes, seeing nothing but himself reflected. "This relationship is a bad idea. That's very specific. Is this really about us Jack, or is it just about Sam?"

"It's about either of you being stupid enough to start this in the first place!" Jack O'Neill was an accomplished liar, but not always a very good one. Daniel almost threw that back at him, but it was an argument that could wait for another time, when Sam wasn't missing from his side. Even his anger fogged brain could see that.

"Whatever Jack. The point is she's missing now and we need to get her back." Jack's rational thought had taken a holiday just like Daniel's, but it was the difference between Alabama and Australia.

"We need to find her? Is that what this is about, your needs, not Sam's?" Silence descended. Daniel just stared at him, his turn to be incredulous, mortified, angry.

"Both our needs. She loves me, I love her." Daniel spoke quietly, soft-spoken steel that somehow resonated even more than Jack's yelling ever had. It was the acknowledgement, by definition both freedom and imprisonment.

"You're in love." It sounded so trite to Jack even as he said it, subconsciously adopting Daniel's soft tone. But it was just speaking the truth, wasn't it? Daniel did nothing but nod. As if the movement had shaken it loose, the first tear rolled down his cheek, but he remained oblivious to it. Jack watched it with slow fascination, then reaching up, wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. It was a strange gesture, so oddly intimate, but alien to them both. Daniel's face dissolved and instinctively he buried himself in Jack's shoulder, the warmth soaked through Jack's shirt and he rubbed absent circles on Daniel's back, unsure what else to do.

"I just want her back Jack." Jack stared above his head, to the scrawled note on the wall. Whatever she had been feeling at that time, her hearts contents spelled out. For Daniel.

"I know what you mean Daniel." He sighed almost imperceptibly "I know what you mean."

Janet didn't quite know when she had realized something was seriously wrong. Maybe it was when Jack had walked past her door five minutes ago, moving like a storm trooper with a bladder condition. Maybe it was the dejected Daniel who had followed a few seconds later, looking like he had aged about ten years in the last half-hour. Or maybe it was the striding Teal'c who had gone past in the other direction, looking as if someone had played a nasty stapler trick on his eyebrow and tattoo. You didn't have to be Janet Frasier to realize something was wrong. But then again she was Janet Frasier, which helped enormously.

"Jack." All his military training couldn't save him from a Doctor with a mission. "What's going on?" 'Never one for the preamble' Jack thought.

"Nothing." It was pointless, it was hopeless, it was a vain hope, but it was worth a shot.

"Jack…." 'Nope. Now tell Janet the truth without drugs, or tell Janet the truth with drugs. Hmmmm….'

"Sam's missing." Janet looked like the wind had been knocked out of her. Gently she sat down on the edge of the bed.

"What?"

"Missing, got up and left." Janet stared at him for a moment in shock.

"When?"

"Last night we think, Daniel didn't find out until he got home." If this information was a surprise to Janet, she didn't show it.

"Oh God." She muttered quietly and looked down.

"What?"

"I treated her yesterday afternoon, she'd shattered a mug in her hands. I should have known then that..."

"How could you? You can't honestly say any of us were expecting this."

"No but…"

"Janet." This voice was new and she looked up again to find Daniel and Teal'c had gathered around the bed.

"You couldn't have known, you're not the person who should have known." Daniel's voice was a mixture of both determination and defeat. Janet reached up and gently stroked her hand down his arm.

"How are you doing?" It was her sympathetic voice, her waking form a coma voice. Daniel wished that he were.

"Ok, I just…I just don't think it's really sunk in yet." She nodded. Jack's brain suddenly snapped together pieces of the jigsaw puzzle.

"Wait a minute" he said to Janet, "How do you know? Daniel said they didn't tell…"

"Jack" she replied eyebrow arched, "I'm Janet." His mouth closed with a snap and remained silently shut.

"Of what did you not inform us Daniel Jackson?" in the moment of silence Teal'cs voice resonated and Daniel turned round, blinking away sudden, irrational guilt.

"Um…Sam and I were…I mean are… having a relationship." He cringed, which part of that was more Freudian? Were and are, or using words he knew may well confuse Teal'c. But he didn't seem confused, or surprised. Instead he simply quirked what could have been, on a better day, a smile.

"I see." Non committal. This man could be obtuse for his country. No make that his world.

"Have you told Hammond?" Janet spoke suddenly in mild surprise, as if the thought had only just occurred.

"That Sam's missing. That she didn't leave much of a note, that her stuff is gone and that we need to find her. Actually we didn't need to tell him that part." That was a Jack O'Neill they all recognized. Focussed, reporting like a soldier on a mission.

"What did he suggest?"

"That we started running a trace on her credit cards, looking for the car. All the usual stuff." Daniel had answered, muscles in his jaw involuntarily tense, straining his voice. Janet looked at him for a moment and sighed, wishing for anything that would wipe that strange, enclosed, de-sensitized look from his face. 'Not anything' she thought. 'Someone.'

"Right, Daniel, get on to the local PD and the Credit card people. Teal'c we're gonna go ask civilised questions."

"Civilised O'Neill?" Jack almost smiled, set up lines were so easy to engineer with Teal'c.

"At first." Even before he had fully turned, Janet's hand was on his arm.

"What about me?" 'You?' was the first response that reached Jack's mind, but even it managed to squash that one before it reached his mouth.

"She's my friend too." Janet seemed to feel the need to justify herself further. Jack took a little comfort in that, not because he felt her request was in any way unreasonable, but simply because it meant she didn't have him all figured out yet.

"Go with Daniel and ring round county hospitals, make sure…well y'know." He didn't want to say it; it chilled his spine too much. Janet turned and walked away and Jack wondered how he could ever even conceive to argue with her. The more eloquent Daniel had one described her as 'steel and velvet' Jack preferred the simpler 'they don't come much tougher in petite.'

Sam was beginning to wonder just how many fields there could be. The countryside seemed to stretch on forever unchanging. It was faintly disconcerting, how did you ever know where you were? Her eyelids were beginning to droop again and she wondered just how much sleep she had actually gotten. The images still haunted her somewhere beyond her conscious reach, but her mind still recoiled whenever she tried to step to close to them. She ached all over, dull and penetrating and she was sick of the car's confines, her desire for speed, for movement lost. Unable to stand it she pulled over, parking in a lay by and hopping from the car door. She had no idea where to go, but the interior had been far too stifling and the air, though full of the joys of internal combustion, was cool and sweet. She felt somehow better just being out here, opening the boot she pulled out her bag, swinging it over her shoulder. She left the car and found a track leading into the fields. The concept of trespass, of restricted movement did not even register with her. The movement itself was too enticing; walking made her feel better and the tall grass around her was natural, free, camouflage. She didn't know where she was, or where she had left the car, but that didn't matter right now, not when she had the chance of burying herself further into this slightly surreal wilderness. It was, she noted absently, very green. After an hour or so of walking, she had lost herself in the maze of flora. Trees rose from the hillside in the distance, splashing out in a confluence of shades. Somewhere she knew there must be mountains, but for now all she was concerned with was the green. It was very simple, she realized. Very easy. And very quiet. The sudden noise of someone else's tread on the ground startled her and she looked up. The woman stood barely a few feet from her, old and tired, a small dog yapping round her ankles like an insistent child.

"Hello." The woman smiled at her, as surprised as she was to find someone else out here. Taking a couple of steps forward, she looked Sam up and down, obviously appraising her. Her accent was a strange twang as if she came from nowhere in particular.

"Hi." Sam tired for a smile, but fell well short. The woman returned the gesture and looking at Sam's face said the first thing that came into her mind.

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

The house was mismatched. It was the first thing that came into Sam's mind as she sat there. It was a living incongruity, but strangely comforting because of it. The walls and the furniture, the placement and the sense. It was warm in here too. Licks of artificial flame flickered cheerfully in the fireplace, contrasting the darkness of the sky outside. It had started raining almost as soon as they had reached the house; the sky pouring down bloated raindrops, cast out from heaven. The woman -Sam couldn't believe she still didn't know her name and yet, now the question seemed somehow inappropriate- had thrust a mug of steaming liquid into her hands and she cradled it, enjoying the warmth. She missed the warmth.

"So." She was being stared at, over the rim of a teacup. She felt momentarily resentful that this woman was asking explanation, but then she was sitting in her house, drinking her tea.

"I got lost." Lies slipped so easily from her mouth, truths stuck in her throat, tried to choke her.

"Really Sam?" Had she told her her name? Sam wondered for a second before remembering she had, she had to stop giving her identity away like that. 'Really' was that a question? Did she have an answer? She was looking at her with one eyebrow quirked, like the teachers she always hated, the ones who expected you to know when they'd never told you, the ones who asked you questions you didn't want to answer.

"I guess, I left the car somewhere, needed to stretch my legs." 'Am I still speaking?' Sam asked herself, unsure of where these explanations were coming from; they weren't this easy last time she had checked.

"The nearest main road is five miles away." She stated it so calmly. Sam wondered how she could not remember coming so far. She needed a distraction, she felt like the specimen in the microscope, caught between the lens and the light. Her eyes roamed the room, searching the objects in the odd angles of firelight. The picture sparked from a fake gold frame, shadows slanted across it, like black drapes.

"Who's this?" Sam picked it up and ran her hand across the top, it was dustless.

"That's Billy." There was a smile in her voice, a mother's smile. "My eldest boy." He was younger than Sam, little more than twenty-five. She glanced down the face to the rest of the picture, how could she not notice a uniform? Was she that de-sensitized these days?

"He looks happy." Empty compliments, just like empty promises.

"He was, it was his graduation." Again that smile, pride that only sadness can bring. Sam put the photograph almost reverently back on the table, the distraction had come full circle, and she was back where she had started. However it seemed to be enough to lapse her into silence and she sipped her tea in the same style as Sam, like the world could be seen at the bottom of a teacup.

"Strictly speaking, I shouldn't be here." Where had that come from? The words had sprung from Sam's mouth before her mind had a chance to intervene. The woman looked up, faintly startled as if that was the last thing she was expecting. It probably was.

"Why?" Sam felt faintly puzzled, she didn't know.

"I'm supposed to be at work." Work, it sounded so professional, work and home, but hers were so deeply intertwined.

"I'm sure they won't mind if you're lost." Would they mind if she were lost? Did she even have to ask that question?

"They're probably worried about me." She looked up and for the first time since being in that car, she was frightened again.

"Do you want to call, to get them to pick you up?" involuntarily Sam looked over at the phone, so easy, so comforting, so cold.

"I can't remember the number, I haven't been working there very long." Again the easy lies, but they were her thing weren't they, numbers, digits, times.

"Well then I suppose you had better stay here." She didn't sound annoyed, or disappointed, in fact Sam thought, she sounded almost pleased, Sam wondered how long she had waited for company.

"Ok." Tiredness washed over her in waves, energy coming in fits and bursts then ebbing away into the darkness. The woman stood and turned towards the stairs, leaving Sam to stare at the empty teacup, wondering where it had all gone.

His eyes stung. He put it down to staring at this damned monitor for what felt like forever, ignoring the fact that unshed tears were still pricking behind his eyelids. Tears were useless, tears didn't bring anyone back, big boys didn't cry. Who had told him that? And when had he started believing it? Unconsciously his hand squeezed the mouse, strange comfort in the unrelenting plastic.

"Daniel, are you ok?" It was a nonsensical question, of course he wasn't ok, did he look ok? Could he be ok? But none the less he answered, like to like, nonsense to nonsense.

"I'm fine Janet." She didn't believe him, but then he knew he was lying. The screen flickered and caught, pulling yet another record from the overcrowded traffic archives. Another near miss, conflicting over whether he should be sad or happy. At the moment he was neither, he was simply frustrated.

"Where is she?" He muttered softly, willing the lump of metal to magically produce the answer. Janet's hand ran an absent line down his arm, silent comfort because there was nothing she could say.

"I will find you." The voice at the back of his mind whispered to him about whether she wanted to be found, but he ignored it. He wasn't losing her to this, wasn't losing a part of himself that he had only just regained.

"Daniel, maybe you should take a break." A look of total incomprehension passed over his face, how long had he been here? He didn't know but it didn't matter, this was where he needed to be.

"I'm ok." It was that lie again.

"Daniel, it's been nearly five hours." That long? No wonder he was aching all over.

"I'm ok Janet." The voice was laced with steel, just a little, just to make himself clear. Janet sighed, acutely aware of that Daniel tone. There was a soft knock at the door and Jack stood there bathed in half-light, though it hurt Daniel's eyes to even think about the harsh glare of the corridor.

"How's it going?" Why was he asking, they would have called if they'd found anything, he knew that. Jack cast a slanting glance at Daniel, unsure appraisal, if it hadn't been Jack it could have almost been an apology. But Daniel saw something else there, Jack was as desperate as he was to get Sam back and no matter what the reasons, Daniel was glad.

"Nothing. You?" Jack put his hands in his pockets and shrugged with the nonchalance of a tensed tiger.

"Nada." Teal'c had appeared behind him, he looked, well like so many other times Daniel couldn't quite place Teal'cs look, as ever most of his emotions fell like untraceable flickers, even his eyebrows were still.

"Janet?" The doctor looked up startled as if even the conversation hadn't quite alerted her to their presence.

"Nothing Colonel." Jack looked faintly startled by her misinterpretation of the question, almost as if that hadn't been what he was expecting.

"Umm No, can I see you for a second?" A faint blush rose to her cheeks as she realized what she had done, but she turned and walked towards him out of the room. Unobtrusively, Teal'c closed the door on them but Daniel's eyes were once again fixed to another accident that could have so nearly been her. He noticed nothing.

"What is it Colonel?" Janet looked up at him, but only literally. The nervous tension that affected all of them was visible in her and her tone belied her impatience.

"Umm highway patrol just radioed something in, they found the car about 30 miles out."

"Sam's car?" Who else's? But she just needed to hear the confirmation.

"Yeah, I said we'd go out there and take a look, bring it back an' all." Jack looked faintly uncomfortable and Janet wondered exactly what was going on in his mind.

"What about…" she motioned to the door, unwilling to say the name, whom she was protecting though she wasn't sure.

"I thought it might be better if he stayed here, he doesn't look too good." Janet nodded; she wouldn't want to see Daniel any more strung up than he already was.

"Then what should we tell him?" the truth was out of the question, Jack knew that as well as she did. But then why did the lie sit so uncomfortably with him?

"I dunno, that we're going home?"

"With Sam missing? He knows us better than that." Jack sighed in exasperation.

"What can we say then? We can't just all disappear."

" I will stay." Teal'cs voice rumbled into the conversation, as effective as ever for turning all attention to him.

"Will you?" Janet hadn't meant to sound so surprised.

"I will tell Daniel Jackson that you have taken Dr Frasier with you and that you wish him to remain here, to continue his research."

"Will that be enough?" Jack asked speculatively.

"I believe it will." 'And he's probably right' Janet thought, 'Daniel's barely noticing the time of day right now.'

"Ok then." Jack started off down the corridor with Janet in hot pursuit; Halfway down he suddenly paused.

"Thanks Teal'c." the big Jaffa merely nodded and entered the room.

Daniel didn't look up from the screen and Teal'c wondered if he was even aware someone else had come in. He looked older, haunted, like a part of him was missing. Teal'c was all too aware of that look, had seen it too many times, worn it a few himself and handed out the mask with barely a thought of consequence. Imperceptible even to those who knew him best, the big Jaffa shivered.

"Do you require assistance?" Looking up, Daniel motioned vacantly to where Janet was sitting, then after a second turned to look at her. He seemed startled that she wasn't there.

"Yeah, could you um..just.." he pointed to Janet's position again and then turned back to his own computer as it beeped. Understanding, Teal'c silently crossed the room and sat down, lighting the screen up again. Suddenly Daniel turned to him.

"Uhh.. Teal'c, where's Jack and Janet?" Teal'c turned, his face impassive.

"They have gone to continue the search." Generalisation was not his strongpoint, but he was managing.

"Oh, have they, um…found anything?" There was a slight rise in his voice, faint hope that still flickered, Teal'c squashed his conscience about stamping it out.

"I do not believe so." It was true, he did not believe that the car would be an important find, though he silently hoped he was proved wrong.

"Oh." Daniel sighed slightly, then returned his eyes to the screen. He stared at it dolefully, resting his head on his hand.

"Are you well Daniel Jackson?" Sometimes his faltering English truly failed him, that was not what he meant to ask.

"That was it Teal'c, there's nothing here." He gestured to the screen, it's last legend glaring unnaturally in the dim light.

" Surely that is a good thing." He was right, Daniel knew he was right. But the lack of certainty was somehow a greater disappointment if not a greater pain.

"I just wanna know where she is." He sounded so desolate for a second, like a child who'd lost their most important possession.

"She will not come to harm." Teal'c spoke with authority, all the authority he could believe.

"How do you know that?" It was faintly plaintive, asking to be offered the straw to grasp.

"She is Major Carter." It was awkward comfort, but somehow more heartfelt because of it. Daniel sighed and punched the monitor off, the excess energy of sitting so still for so long bubbled over and he bounced from the chair, pacing small circles around the room. Suddenly he stopped and flopped back down in the chair again, passing a hand over his eyes.

"You are tired Daniel Jackson." It was a statement not a question, most likely the fault of Teal'cs learned English. Except it wasn't.

"Yeah, but I don't think…"

"You should go home."

"I guess I should." A shadow passed over his face and Teal'cs eyebrow quirked.

"Do you not wish to leave?" He prompted gently, working the truth out of him.

"No, it's not that, it's just…" Daniel paused and closed his eyes for a second, the silence hung in the air but Teal'c wisely chose not to fill it.

"She won't be there Teal'c, nothings there. I don't want to be there without her." Teal'c nodded and the briefest flicker passed over his own face.

"You must believe she will return Daniel Jackson." He had always believed that, it didn't matter if it sometimes wasn't true.

"I guess." Daniel's traitorous body was leading him to the door, he decided he had little choice in the matter.

"G'Night Teal'c." He opened the door slowly, grimacing then squinting against the harsh corridor lights.

"Good night Daniel Jackson." Teal'c watched the door close but remained seated, staring into the darkest corner of the room.

General George Hammond briefly recalled other missions in the dark as he played the torch beam across the bonnet of the car. Behind him he heard Jack swear softly and bit his own lip to prevent him replying in kind. He wasn't quite sure why he had insisted on coming out here with them, both guilt and responsibility could take the blame. There was nothing here, he had known that before he had even arrived. The SGC, his people, were far too well trained to leave any trace when they didn't want to be found. Damn them. With what Hammond could only describe as moderated violence, or as it was known in O'Neill terms 'being careful' Jack broke the lock and pulled open the car door. A smell Hammond vaguely recognized wafted out. Part of it was Sam's, as unique as she was, but the rest was a mixture of dried oil, dry heat and almost imperceptibly, fear. He shivered, putting the sensation down to his overactive imagination. You couldn't smell fear he reasoned, unless you were featured on the discovery channel.

Somehow, though Hammond wouldn't have liked to hazard a guess to which fundamental law of physics she had broken, Janet had managed to beat Jack to the car door. She rummaged around the driver's seat, lobbing the papers from the glove compartment into the back. Finally she sighed and turned around, resting her head against the headrest.

"There's nothing here Sir." Her tone almost broached defeat, if she'd have let it.

"Ya think?" O'Neill's sarcasm had been slowly becoming more apparent over the last hour, Hammond put it down to tiredness, though that didn't make it any less irritating.

"I mean there's nothing at all. No personal stuff of Sam's or Da..or of anybody else's." George had been in command in one format or another for nearly twenty years, he knew a slip when he heard one. But he consciously ignored it, for now.

"Do you think she took the things with her?" Hammond broke into the tense silence between Jack and Janet, he noted silently that whatever she had nearly said, he knew it too.

"Probably, you can't tell." Janet ran her hand idly over the steering wheel, then stopped and examined her finger in the fading light.

"What is it?" Jack asked, watching her.

"Blood." Hammond's heart froze, how many times had that word only been a preface?

"Not much" Janet was quick to reassure, looking at the powdery substance. "She just cut her finger would be my guess."

"How old?" Jack had suddenly perked up, the metaphorical and literal bloodhound. Janet shrugged and looked at him.

"Few hours I'd guess, but it's almost impossible to tell." She dusted her finger off.

"So we know that Major Carter must have been at this spot sometime in the last few hours?" Hammond posed the rhetorical question, praying for an answer.

"The question is where did she go then?" Janet cast her eyes around the surrounding forest and sighed.

"The question is, what do we do now?" Jack also sighed and threw a glance at Janet, posing a silent question but receiving no response. There was something that didn't sit quite right with Hammond about this, something he knew he wasn't being told. He wished he knew what it was, but he wished even more that he didn't have an icy knot in his stomach with the suspicion of what it could be. He turned his eyes to Jack and had his gaze held for the briefest second, before Jack turned away and spoke.

"Well we certainly can't do any more out here." He pulled his Jacket tighter around himself, "Get some of the airman to pick this thing up I guess." He kicked the car's tire and turned his eyes once again to Hammond.

"What if she comes back to it?" Janet asked.

"Then we leave someone out here watching the road." It was a harsh truth and even as he said it, Hammond didn't want it to be heard. Janet raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing.

"All we can do." Jack turned and walked a few metres back down the road, kicking angrily at the tarmac. It was Hammond's turn to sigh.

_Sam was sure she was awake, positive beyond all reasoning. So how he could be here was beyond her. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself, the patchwork colours that fit in so well with the building. He was sitting in the chair in the corner, she could tell even without looking over. There was a slight orange glow in the darkness, from the cigarettes he'd sworn so many times he'd given up. _

"_Why Sam?" He had no right to use that voice, it wasn't his. That voice belonged to another darkness, a darkness filled with softness and promises and trust, a darkness she had shared so recently, that she still wanted to share. "Why didn't you tell me?" She shivered, mismatched like the house was; yet they both bored into her for answers. And she just didn't know, he remained so calm staring at her out of the darkness, the patience he had never had suddenly bestowed on him from somewhere, her voice felt frozen, trapped and so she simply stared into the darkness, willing something to happen. _

Something happened. Daniel didn't know how long he'd lain there, staring blankly at the wall, praying for the answer to appear to him, for a light pressure on the other side of the bed, for anything that might tell him this was all some kind of nightmare. But nothing came, until a light flicker in the darkness roused him and he snapped on the light. But it revealed nothing. Sighing and wrapping his arms around the pillow he shut it off again, hoping against hope for something to change, to move.

_He was moving, Sam could feel him advancing slowly. He still spoke to her, in a soft soothing tone, but his voice was fractured and she could tell the two apart. It sounded almost Goa'uld like, the hum of two voices in one, fighting for dominance. But his eyes were cold and dark; the only light they gleamed with was his own, though it was just as malicious. She huddled away from him, shaking, feeling the light pressure as he sat on the bed, reaching out a hand to touch her face. He was as cold as death. _

"_Why didn't you tell me Sam?" The question sounded more sinister in that broken tone and he leaned in close, she wasn't sure what revolted her more, the ever-present smell of nicotine and whiskey on his breath, or the mere proximity. "Did you think I wouldn't know?" His voice had changed, he was all him again and Sam shivered. "Of course I'd find out." There was a smile in his voice, a cruel one. The hand that lightly caressed her cheek suddenly pulled her chin up and underneath it, Sam felt the cold comfort of steel on her throat. The feeling was disassociating and Sam suddenly, calmly realized she wasn't afraid. Not of him anyway. _

"_What should I have said Jonas?" Her voice was soft even to her, soothing, and a tone she'd used so many times before. _

"_You should have told me." he repeated, glaring at her, sliding the knife from side to side on it's blade, changing the gentle pressure on her throat. _

"_I had nothing to say." She looked at him straight in the eye and he glowered, anger and frustration mixing, he pressed the knife a little closer to her throat and she felt her first sensation of pain. _

Daniel's hand reached suddenly for the light switch, whilst the other simultaneously flew to his throat. Pain sharp and searing shivered through him and he gasped, eyes arching open. It passed almost as quickly as it had come and gingerly he rolled himself out of bed towards the mirror. He examined his throat carefully, first one side, then the other, he had searched so many times before for lines of incision, but this was different. It had been so realistic and he felt the sensations echo in his mind as he looked into the mirror. He was pale he noticed vacantly, drawn, but there was still a peculiar intensity in his eyes as for an unwelcome change he stared into his own.

_And she stared into his, seeing herself reflected, watching the ghosted images of fear and panic she herself didn't feel. Was that what he was expecting? She looked over, suddenly aware of a second figure in the room. Jonas remained pinned, silent, almost statuesque except for the ragged breathing that pounded against her face in a torrent of nicotine and lies. _

"_You should have told him." The second figure spoke, his voice still and neutral. The boy's face was hazy, but he was little more than 25 and he looked, happy. "He had rights." Sam flicked her eyes back to Jonas' face, inches from her own. _

"_He had no rights." She said firmly, holding her convictions like a shield. _

"_Not him, him." The boys hand motioned to her abdomen and instinctively, Sam looked down. Blood, again soaking the sheets and the pain that wrenched through her came in steady waves._

"_What could I have said?" She asked, her eyes flicking from the boy to Jonas to the blood seeping across the bed. Faint desperation escaped her and she felt the knife bite. The boy looked at her with clear eyes and shrugged. _

"_He should have known." He said again and his expression changed, like the clown with his make-up removed, the cracks began to show through. Sam focussed on him for the first time. On the face, on the uniform, from the blossomed pool of blood on his breast pocket, where the random shooter in his hometown had made his mark. Feeling her focus he looked down at the bloodstain, seeming to appreciate the irony. "He should have known." He said again and smiled faintly. Sam looked away from him, into Jonas' eyes. They were as cold as ever, but she swallowed the lump, which had nothing to do with the knife at her throat. _

"_I'm sorry." She whispered past the barrier. Jonas looked at her and slowly exhaled._

The rush of warm air woke her. She stared into the inky blackness, shivering, waiting for the tigers to spring from the corners. Nothing happened. She squinted, trying to make out indeterminate shapes but they flitted out of focus. She sighed.

He woke back where he had begun, the darkness and relative safety of his bed. His sleep fogged mind reached out automatically next to him and finding nothing, woke a little sharper than he was used to. His brain returned the grim playback of the day's events and sitting up he stared vacantly at the empty space, somehow expecting it at any moment to be filled.

She waited. Nothing stirred and eventually her eyes began to droop. She felt so tired, as if she had never slept before. Unconsciously she curled herself into a ball, protecting herself from a world that suddenly seemed so unfamiliar. Where had she been? Her mind wandered hunting it's bearings and like a touchstone, she reached out for her bag. The wire frames were as she'd left them, miraculously unharmed by the journey. She cradled them almost reverently, holding them in front of her and watching the scant reflections of the last few flickers of light, she stared at them vacantly.

A tear ran down their cheeks.

Dawn was creeping insidiously though the curtains. Jack idly swatted at the encroaching sunrays and the movement, much to the delight of patient gravity, unbalanced him enough to fall off the sofa. He landed for the briefest second half on the coffee table, before that too submitted to physics and he collapsed in a crumpled heap on the carpet.

"Bastard." He swore quietly, to no one in particular. The coffee table did not retaliate, obviously presuming that he was not referring to it. He groaned as he forced his reluctant limbs to arrange themselves and maintained a measure of dignity by at least managing a moderate spring to get himself off the carpet. His back twinged and he immediately regretted it. 'Gotta stop sleeping on the sofa' he thought as he headed off for the bathroom. But the sofa really had seemed the best idea after all, that was where the phone was and that was what he had spent half his night doing, watching it, and willing it to ring.

"Bastard." He said again, directing it at the lump of plastic. Shrugging he left the room, working the last few kinks from his shoulders. He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror for a few seconds, the heavy bags that had almost taken up residence under his eyes, the flat expression that he could only put down to too little sleep, too much worry, and too much caffeine. He reached for the toothpaste, considering for a moment eating it raw, minus brush or water. There was a nasty taste in his mouth that he just couldn't shift, though if he was honest with himself he knew what it was. Daniel's face had crumpled when they'd told him they'd found nothing. He'd accepted it for a moment, almost unaware that anything else had been said, then suddenly the words had registered and he'd sprung out of the chair, with more agility than anyone with that much time to sit still should have been able to muster. Jack had regretted coming alone. It wasn't the anger he found difficult, anger was something he had in large supplies, bottled and set and catergorized, stored for a later date when he didn't look so… pitiful. It was that he couldn't stand, the need that was there, the hurt, monopoly on emotions that he felt should be his. Caught him short, cheated him when there was nothing to take away. Annoyed, he shook his head, wondering whether he should have apologized, ignoring the self-righteous little voice that whispered in the back of his mind. Slowly and rhythmically he brushed his teeth, giving up the argument with himself before it had really started. He was humming tunelessly, snatches of songs Daniel probably didn't even remember when suddenly, the phone trilled from the other room. He turned sharply, spraying toothpaste onto the front of his shirt and narrowly avoiding the minefield of takeaway and shoes that littered his carpet. At least he thought it was still carpet. Finally, tripping over a running shoe he didn't even think he owned he landed back on the couch and reached for the cold plastic.

Sam stirred under the warm blanket. Reluctantly, her eyes crept open to face the encroaching dawn, but a single shaft of bright morning sunlight was enough to send her back, burying herself as deeply as she could beneath the covers, murmuring, half asleep.

"Did you leave the window open again? If you want us to get a cat, you're gonna have to stop doing that."

'Aww Sam, It's the only thing I'm not allergic to! It'd be great to have a cat, you'd love it, I swear.' The voice was faintly petulant, like a child begging for his first pet. 'Which in a sense' Sam thought, 'he is.' She smiled indulgently, then frowned. He hadn't said that had he. She shivered, he wasn't here. Rolling onto her back, she flung her arm over to the other side of the bed, finding cold, empty air.

Her eyes opened and she sat up, wrapping the blanket around herself. Her hand groped around on the floor for her clothes, then her eyes caught them draped over the chair in the corner. Cautiously she reached out a hand; they were strangely warm she noticed, though they lay exactly as she had left them. Shaking her head to clear whatever thoughts had gathered there, she quickly dressed, thankful for the military training that had allowed her to develop the skill of simultaneously putting things on and buttoning them. She ran a hand through her hair, unsure of where her things were in this suddenly alien environment. Sighing she sat down on the bed, wondering why she felt so uncomfortable with her surroundings. She looked around, nothing had moved, nothing changed but somehow everything seemed sharper, more defined. She smiled, it wasn't a bad feeling, just…completing. Giving up on the train of thought she had been trying to muster, she flopped back on the bed, relaxing for a moment against the soft sheets. Her muscles seemed strangely taut, like she had been building up tension for days and as she relaxed she felt her shoulder pop, pulling slowly and painfully back into it's rightful position. She was, she suddenly relaized, exhausted.

"Some ride." She muttered, opening her eyes again to stare vacantly at the ceiling. It was, she noticed for the first time eggshell blue, but a hairline fracture ran from the light fitting to the wall, radiating out like a misshapen lightening bolt. She wondered quietly on how she could have missed that before, when so many other tiny details had caught her attention. Still, she mused, it was amazing how you never noticed what was hanging above your head. Somewhere in the distance there came a crash, then a moderated stream of swearing. 'Cooking' Sam deduced, though she wasn't entirely sure what cooking sounded like when you weren't the one doing it. On the other hand, she could identify take out from the crunch of the foil containers.

Her eyes flitted around the room again, trying not to linger on any object, hoping nothing would want to linger on her. The ceiling reminded her of her childhood bedroom, it'd been Mark's before it had been hers and had been painted a similar shade of blue. She smiled at the memory of staring at it when she had broken her arm falling out of a tree, it had set wrong and the hospital eventually had to re-break it in order to make it heal right again. They'd insisted she kept it still, so she had been confined to that room, Mark pelting the window with pebbles to remind her just what a fun time he was having outside. It had taken a long time, but eventually the reset bones had knitted together and she could play in the sun again. She glanced at the window, the sun had barely risen far enough to peak over the top of the mountains she could suddenly see in the distance but the night air was already warming. The little light filtering through the window glinted off the lenses of the glasses on the table and she reached over to pick them up. Squinting through the plastic she saw the smudge of fingermarks that littered their surface. Daniel was gonna be mad, she mused, though at least they were coming back intact. Then again, they usually did. She had a secret theory that the opticians had started mixing carbon fibre into the lenses of Daniel's glasses, they usually came back in better condition than he did. Smiling she stared at the blurry, misted world through the frames, holding them aloft so the sunlight refracted off them, breaking into rainbow misted colours on the surface of the plastic. Her hands absently stroked the tops of the frames, the way she had done so many times when she hadn't been the one wearing them. The action was reversed and she wanted suddenly to set it right again.

"Breakfast?" Sam jolted and nearly dropped the glasses, the woman stood in the door, looking faintly apologetic. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to…"

"It's ok." Sam smiled weakly, too tired to muster any more.

"Breakfast's ready." She looked at Sam oddly and with a start Sam realized she was still wearing Daniel's glasses. Rapidly she pulled them from her face.

"They're umm…" The woman struggled, blushing slightly.

"Not mine." Sam gave a small apologetic smile and dropped her eyes.

"Oh right." The woman looked as confused as ever.

"So…breakfast?" Sam tried to save them both.

"Yes." She brightened visibly, welcoming the safe ground. "It's just downstairs." She indicated vaguely into the corridor as if that would be sufficient directions. "Do you, umm… have any idea what you're going to do." It was a gentle nudge but Sam felt it.

"Yeah." She looked up and smiled faintly, twiddling the arms of the frames in her hand. "I have a phone call to make."

"You've thought of someone to call?" She looked surprised.

"I've remembered the number." She smiled.

Jack suddenly realized his hands were trembling. Before he could even speak into the phone they shook, either fear or anticipation, he couldn't tell. Somehow the fact he could hold a gun steady on a field of combat without a second thought didn't matter now, but he tried to squash the tremor in his voice, afraid of frightening, or sounding frightened.

"Hello." The usual preamble was forgotten and the line felt heavy with silence, as if the person on the other end was trying to make a decision.

"Sir?" Jack breathed out in a huge rush of air. He had been praying for that sound for the last three days and here it was.

"Carter?" The same name, none of the same tone. It was tenderness that surprised even him and he had a feeling her as well.

"Sir, I think I need picking up."

"Where the hell are you Carter?" That was better, sounded more military, more professional. He could almost have been proud of himself. Sam rattled off the address in a formal tone and Jack suddenly regretted putting them back onto such familiar ground. It was not where he wanted to be.

"Have you called anyone else?" Jack phrased the question gently but Sam immediately knew what he was getting at.

"I haven't called Daniel Sir." Jack's heart skipped a beat. She had called him first, him. For a second mad hope flitted through him, was it even possible she might be telling him something? Every impulse he had so ruthlessly quashed over the last few days bubbled suddenly to the surface.

"Are you OK Sam?" 'What exactly are you asking Jack, does she need me?'

"I just, want to see you all again." She sounded so tired, but somehow happier than he'd heard for a while, like she did at three am when something finally went right, not that he was ever around much to notice. She sounded almost, satisfied.

"Oh right." The hope that it may have been something to do with him was waning, but like a child he stubbornly clung to it.

"Sir" She sounded hesitant, as if trying to gauge his reaction. The speculative tone gave him pause and he answered in the carefully crafted non-committal.

"Yeah?" Her breath sounded softly in his ear, he'd never been so happy to hear a sound.

"Could you call Daniel for me? I didn't want to wake him." Jack hoped the rush of air that passed his lips was not audible to her.

"Ok, I'll bring him." He promised, grasping the receiver until his knuckles went white.

"See you soon." She sounded calm, at peace.

"I'll be there." A smile in his tone, but not one he felt. The line clicked before he had put the phone down and he turned suddenly, smashing his fist into the wall. Finally tired of this treatment, the wall gave way and small flecks of white plaster dust spattered the top of his T-shirt.

"Oh for crying out loud!" he yelled to the empty house. The phone stared guiltily at him, waiting for his next move. He lifted it; hand hovering over the speed dial, wishing it wasn't quite so easy to make the connection. How did he say this without his voice trembling? How did he sound happy when by all rights he should be, he was, but he wasn't? Daniel was gonna smile, wide and beaming until it reached his eyes and made them sparkle behind the reflection of the lenses. The kind of smile Jack had always secretly hoped he would see there again after so long absent, waiting for the chance to watch him and to live a little himself what that felt like again. But Daniel was living what he wanted to live and he hadn't done anything wrong. Daniel was gonna smile and he didn't know if he could stand it. He took a deep breath, the wash of relief mixing with the cold water that had dashed the last flicker of his wildest hopes. 'She's still here' he reminded himself sternly, refusing to become too maudlin, 'she called you, she still needs you.' For now, he mused he would have to be content with that. He picked up his car keys and his jacket, slipping it over his shoulders, then stared at the phone again. He picked it up, listening to the comforting drone of the dial tone and his hand hovered over the speed dial button. He thought for a moment. Then carefully and rhythmically he dialled by hand.

Daniel Jackson had been silent for the last half mile. Teal'c resisted the urge to reach out and touch him, unsure of human etiquette in these situations, if there was one. In fact the entire truck was silent, Daniel stared vacantly out of the window, too engrossed in the ever more disturbing scenarios his mind was choosing to play out the fast approaching meeting. Janet stared too, anxiously watching the road ahead sure that if she took her eyes off for a second, they would miss it. Jack drove and General Hammond, who'd surprised everyone by not only joining them but also doing a less than graceful leap into the front seat, map read. A few miles back, everyone had thought they'd reached the end of the literal and metaphorical road. Now they both sat in a thick silence, refuting any suggestion they were not talking as that would, after all be childish. Teal'c did not speak because he had nothing to say.

"There." Janet pointed, disturbingly spotting it before Jack. Daniel's head whipped round and he squinted into the distance, trying to make the indeterminate shape on the front steps. It was achingly familiar. Jack swung the car into the drive with unnecessary violence, though no one seemed to notice. Before Daniel was even aware of it, his hands were unlatching the car door and he was standing in the still tangible chill of the morning air. He felt the others gather behind him, fanning out into some semblance of a parade. Sam looked at them, then down at the scant metre of ground that separated them. She didn't want to be on this side.

Jane watched the whole scene from the top of the porch, watering can in one hand. It was a pity it was empty really. The tension in the air was palpable and she tutted slightly, watching the faces of Sam's friend's over her shoulder. She couldn't quite place their look, it was somewhere between pity and confusion, relief and anger. She couldn't see Sam's face, but she could guess it. Unable to do anything to help now she waited, allowing the balance of forces to find an outlet.

Sam looked at them fearfully, trying to quell the impulse to race back into the house, up the stairs and under the bedclothes until she was so small and far away that none of this would be real. Janet was looking at her with concern, friend or physician she couldn't tell. She felt sick and for the first time since last night dreadfully uncertain, suddenly painfully aware of the real world she'd been putting on hold. She looked at Jack 'I should have told him to come alone' she thought, wishing she could deal with them all individually, when she knew she was ready, not merely testing this new ground with tentative steps. Jack seemed to be struggling as much as she was, flares of anger and relief rising in those ever-expressive eyes and she shivered, suddenly afraid of what he would do, what any of them would do. Hammond and Teal'c wore variations of the same expression, trained in different ways to never let their emotions be used as a weakness. She looked at them all, unsure suddenly of exactly what, or who she was seeing. Then she caught them, blue eyes that stared into hers. He looked so afraid, she realized, afraid of this afraid of her. She wanted to hold him suddenly, like she had done when she had seen that expression before, to hold him and tell him everything was going to be alright, because she was there, now she was. There was fear there and guilt? She looked at him; guilt was floating in that sea, guilt for her actions? She started, he thought it was his fault? The breath escaped her lips before the thought had fully formed, her instincts screaming inside her. The word was the first to break the tense silence and it was strangely appropriate.

"Daniel?" He looked up at her and then without thinking breached the divide between them, wrapping his arms around her waist. She responded, feeling the sudden warmth that infused into her bones, filling something she hadn't even realized was empty. Outside their pocket of space Janet and George both looked down, embarrassed intruders on the moment. Teal'c's eyes remained fixed to some point in the distance, apparently unaware of what was happening. Jack stared, unable not to, though a voice in his mind screamed to look away. Hammond processed the event and he understood, there was no way he could possibly not. His expression wavered between a frown and a smile as General and Father fought it out. He was angry with them, angry for breaking a regulation, even if it was an unwritten one, angry for giving him another problem, another kink in the ever more bumpy road the SG project had become. Angry that they hadn't told him. Glad that they hadn't made him make a decision on their lives, glad they'd found something he knew would make them stronger, glad he wasn't one who had to break them apart right now. The father was winning, but the ever-stubborn general still needed something to take it out on. He glanced around, Teal'c's even stare away from the whole scene to something only he could see, Janet's beaming grin, however firmly she tried to restrain it. Jack's fixed stare and his clothing, covered in dust and some distinctly suspicious white stains.

"Colonel!" The tone was all military and the iron rod in Jack's spine snapped him to attention before he could stop it. He tore his gaze away and faced Hammond.

"Yes General?" Hammond looked at him steadily.

"Couldn't you have found a cleaner shirt?" The tension shattered, Janet giggled quietly and Daniel felt Sam smile against his neck, rejoicing in that alone himself. Jack looked reproachfully at the general, knowing full well that he couldn't give retorts to superior officers. From the half smile on Hammond's lips Jack knew he knew that too. He wondered how long he'd been waiting for the moment to say that. Teal'c, turned his eyes back to the gathering, apparently not understanding but enjoying the relief from the suffocating tension. He looked around them and at Jack. And his eyes sparkled. Daniel turned Sam round, as gently as if she was fragile porcelain and led her slowly to the truck. Janet hovered around her like a bee, already looking for the simple explanation. They all turned from the house, heading slowly into the sunlight and the truck. Sam turned suddenly, twisting in Daniel's grasp and he stiffened, berating himself for the sudden fear that had gripped his heart.

"Thank you" She called and from the porch Jane smiled, watching her settle back into the man's side, sagging against him in a mixture of relief and exhaustion. Turning away from the scene she opened the door, finally deciding to really water her plants. As she closed it she smiled at the translucent figure that stood by the bookcase, grinning like he did in all his photos. He held up a gossamer hand and she high-fived it, used by now to the tingling cold sensation as her own solid hand passed straight through. He laughed and she grinned, watching the translucent children who'd come to play on the stairs.

Epilogue.

Sam slid the key in the lock, listening to the satisfying click as it snapped the door open. There was a faint sickness in her stomach, though she couldn't quite place the cause. She'd done this so many times and so few. Daniel was curled in the chair in the corner, curled up in a way she was sure wasn't possible unless you were feline, nose buried in a book that was, Sam suspected, older than the apartment.

"Hey." He smiled at her over the top of it, still she knew faintly nervous of her presence. Not for his sake but for hers. So much still remained unsaid, he would gently probe her for answers but she couldn't tell him what she didn't know. Part of her still wished those few days had never happened; she was still rebuilding bridges she had singed. In these few days since Jack had calmed a lot, though he was still strangely formal around her, the military protocol for now seeming to have taken the place of the connection they had once shared. Hammond too had given them both a stiff lecture and a smile, leaving them slightly ambiguous over his feelings, but in Daniel's words 'it wasn't a no.' Both Janet and Teal'c had seemed fairly unaffected. No that wasn't true Sam amended, Janet bounced from excitement to worry like a pinball machine, the infection she had found Sam had been suffering was enough to cause mild hallucinations, though neither of them truly believed that. Sam had an inkling of the real explanation, though it scared her more than she dared to admit. So much of it was still a hazy image to her anyway and in a way she'd rather keep it like that. Teal'c was being…well Teal'c, stoic and unmoving tenderness that touched her. He was watching them she could tell and she thanked him for it.

But or now Daniel was her main concern, he was looking at her steadily now, a smile turning up the corners of his lips.

"How was Janet?" Her second visit to the doctors had been as mandatory as her first, if far more revealing.

"Bouncy." He grinned; Janet's questions so far had proved just how little shame that particular physician had.

"How do you feel?" It was borne out of genuine concern, Sam knew that, it was her own guilt that rephrased it into 'you running away from me again?'

"I'm ok." She sounded hesitant and Daniel's wide eyes immediately filled with concern. He reached out and she came over, clasping his hand and pressing her lips to his. She was trembling he realized.

"What's wrong Sam?" His tone was now deeply concerned and she gave him a weak smile as she sat down, it would almost have reassured him, if she hadn't been grasping his hand as if she thought he would disappear. He stroked his thumb across her knuckles in unconscious comfort.

"Daniel, Janet did some tests…" She paused and Daniel felt his heart freeze, was this it, the explanation? Part of him had been praying for something simple and rational and medical, but from the look in her eyes he was suddenly deathly afraid of it.

"Daniel…I'm pregnant." She looked at him, studying his face as his thumb stilled its track halfway across her knuckles. He seemed to sink inside himself and his blue eyes became as still as a millpond. Sam shivered; she didn't like losing him like that, the emotions she was so used to seeing suddenly sinking so deeply beneath the surface she couldn't find them. She watched fearfully, her breath caught in her throat. The moment dragged out, Daniel staring into the middle distance, shocked and unaware. The first gasp of a sob was beginning in her throat when suddenly he came back to her, looking at her steadily. His face still displayed no emotion but suddenly, like sunshine after a thunderstorm, he smiled. Sam felt a smile crack onto her own face, relief and joy and love and something she couldn't quite place, journey's end and journey's beginning. He squeezed her hand tighter and pulled her to him, engulfing her in his arms. She felt a great wash of joy pass through her. She didn't know where they were going, but they were moving forwards.


End file.
